


Chapter Two

by brunchywrites



Series: I Once Read... [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Gen, Jason Todd is Robin, Nightmares, generic family fluff hour, he also believes in everyone, he's robin in this one fellas ayee, jason is a very passionate wee boy you see, the riddler makes an appearence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:46:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunchywrites/pseuds/brunchywrites
Summary: Bruce reflects on Jason, specifically Jason as Robin and the effect he has on Gotham's Rogues.Or Rogue, specifically.





	Chapter Two

Another thing Bruce noticed about Jason was that he wouldn’t reach out for help on his own, Jason would rather suffer in silence than come to anyone for help. 

It was something he noticed when he went to check on him after his first patrol, it’d been three hours since he sent Jason to bed and he wanted to make sure he was asleep at the very least. Stakeouts were normally exhausting, that was a fact Bruce learned with Dick. 

He opened the door quietly, bristling when he heard sobbing coming from a little huddle on the bed. Bruce walked in approaching the side of the bed and putting a hand on Jason’s back. The poor boy was shuddering, biting into his hand to keep himself from making too much noise. 

“It’s just me,” Bruce kept his voice quiet, rubbing up and down Jason’s back until the boy’s sobs quieted down. He watched Jason take his hand out of his mouth and wipe it against his sheets.

Jason still trembled, and Bruce realized for the first time in over a year since adopting Jason, that he’d never seen or heard him have a nightmare. When Dick was Jason’s ag he’d wake up screaming from nightmares. It slipped his mind that Jason would have them as well. Bruce could’ve kicked himself, then done it again. He should’ve thought about that much at the very least, how he didn’t consider it he just.. He didn’t know.

Bruce rubbed Jason’s shoulder and laid down next to him. He waited, and he waited. He could tell that Jason was still awake, and that he was practicing one of the breathing exercises that Bruce had taught him during training. In for four beats, out for eight.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Talking always helped Dick, maybe it would help Jason. 

Jason uncurled from his tight ball, stretching his legs out carefully. His knees popped with stiffness and finally he rolled over, punctuated with a sniffle. 

“Yeah,” Jason’s voice was strained, raw with the sobs he worked so hard to quiet down. “Give me a sec.” 

“Take your time,” Bruce reached out and Jason wiggled into the empty space between them, head hitting his chest, and that was Bruce’s cue.

He wrapped his arms around his impossibly small son and held him, curling with him and waiting. Patience was a practiced virtue, but Bruce couldn’t help but mentally kick himself again for not once thinking that Jason would have nightmares. He should have been there for his son-

“My mom died in her recliner,” Jason spoke slowly, fingers smoothing over the fabric of Bruce’s silk pajama shirt. “I sat there for hours, thinking she would wake up. I can still see.. See her face sometimes, when I sleep. This wasn’t because of patrol o-or Robin training, okay? This is just my stupid brain wanting something that won’t be real,” Jason’s voice cracked and he pressed his face further into Bruce’s chest. He convulsed with another poorly hidden sob and Bruce squeezed him. 

“It’s okay, chum. I understand,” he smoothed his fingers through Jason’s hair, trying to soothe the sobbing boy in his arms. He wasn’t sure if he ever saw Jason cry before, or perhaps he did see him cry, just in another way. 

“It’s not okay,” his breath hitched in his throat, “For my brain to go: ‘hey, imagine if your mom woke up, that she didn’t die. Imagine if your mom lasted more than a week off heroin!’ Wouldn’t that be funny?” 

Bruce frowned, and waited. The anger was coming back, the anger that Jason used to repress his sadness, to push forward, the same anger that led him to trying to steal the tires off the batmobile. 

“It’s not funny, and it fu-freaking- freaking sucks! I don’t want to think about the what if’s.. My mom died. It’s simple, it’s so simple that.. That I don’t,” he couldn’t get the words out, his voice dissolving into another weak sob. 

“You know, Jay.. I once read that the human brain tries to make up different scenarios of what actually happened to try and cope with the trauma,” he rubbed his back again, reminding him that he was still there with him. “That’s all your brain is doing, it’s not to punish you, or hurt you. It’s just what brains do.”

Jason wiped his eyes, scrubbing the heels of his palms into their sockets. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. 

“When your parents.. You know.. Did you have the same dreams?” His voice was soft, and Bruce steeled his eyes and focused elsewhere in the room. 

“I did, and they were awful. But there’s no facts in those dreams, what happened.. Happened, and we can only move forward from them.”

“Do they ever go away?” 

Bruce sighed, and curled up around Jason, his thighs hitting the boy’s legs, “For a while yes but sometimes I still have them, they’re unavoidable but it gets better to handle,” a slight lie, Jason didn’t have to know it was one. 

Jason nodded his head, taking another deep breath. For a while they both sat in silence.

He felt Jason’s head shift against him, pressing closer, “Thank you.” 

Bruce pressed a kiss atop his head, “I’m always here, chum. If you need me, you can always come get me.” 

“Mmkay.. Oh and Bruce?” 

“Yes Jay?”

“That stakeout was awesome.” 

Bruce laughed, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

And things were peaceful, and quiet. Bruce fell asleep faster than he had in months. 

He woke up to Jason curled up in his arms. The light was pouring in through the window and every muscle in Bruce’s body was screaming at him. He’d fallen asleep curled around his son like a protective dog and Jason had his face tucked tightly into his chest, arms laced around his torso.

Bruce had to play the pry the son off his chest without waking him up game, and luckily as soon as he got Jason off, the boy curled back up into his own ball. 

It was only Sunday, it would only be fair if Bruce let Jason sleep in. 

xxx 

Four months into being Robin, and Jason already had the hang of it. He could punch someone and deliver a quick one liner before dodging another blow. Jason was fast, but in a different way. He didn’t dodge most of the time, if he could take a hit he would take it, if just for the sake of showing whoever punched him who was boss. 

Jason was good at the intimidation game. He would get knocked down and stand right back up to go again. He didn’t stop, Jason would keep going no matter what happened. But that was also one of his flaws, he’d put himself in more danger if it meant saving someone else.

“Robin, self preservation,” he looked over and Jason listened. He flipped out of the way of what would have probably ended in a broken arm. 

“I got it, B, don’t worry!” 

Bruce grunted, and watched the guy go after Jason again, except this time Jason turned and ducked, gasping. 

“I found the Riddler!” And he was sprinting off before Bruce could catch up with him. He had a few goons to take care of, not that it was hard. He threw one of them into the other, cuffed them to an exposed pipe, and left them to be picked up by the GCPD. 

He jogged up the stairs, a million thoughts dancing through his head. He trusted that Nygma wouldn’t hurt Jason so much as get him confused. So far Jason hadn’t been seriously hurt by anyone in the Rogue Gallery, he just had.. A weird charm, something Bruce and nobody else could explain.

Maybe they saw themselves in that angry little boy who scrunched up his brows and called them losers. Or they had an odd respect for him, Bruce genuinely didn’t know what it was but the only person who posed a threat was the Joker. 

But the Joker was always a threat. 

He caught Robin and Riddler in a.. Funny situation, he would’ve laughed had it not been for the cowl of a reminder against his face.

Riddler was tied up to a bench by the hands and ankles and Jason was sitting in front of him, writing on a miniature notebook. 

“And that’s why the brain remembers riddles, or at least enjoys them. It’s like exercise, just.. Educational exercise.” 

Jason closed the notepad and stuck it back in his utility belt, “Thank you so much!” 

“No problem birdie!” 

Bruce wanted to scream, but he didn’t. He just stood silently until Jason brushed himself off and looked over at him. He crossed his little arms over his puffed out chest and said, 

“What? I have psychology homework due tomorrow, this will be a great point to bring up to my teacher…” 

Bruce stared at him and Jason huffed, loudly, and gesture wildly with his hands. 

“I tied him up before I asked questions this time. You owe me five bucks and a coke!” 

“Of course.”

Jason bit his lip, “Is he.. Going back to Arkham?”

Bruce nodded, “He is, hopefully for better, this time,” he cast the emerald suited man a look and Nygma squirmed. 

“Okay. Mr. Nygma Riddler?” Jason turned around sharply. 

“Yes?” 

“Get better, like for real get better. You could be a fucking awesome teacher if you did and that’s more promising than anything else. Do you hear me?!” 

Maybe Riddler only reacted the way he did because he was being yelled at by a small child, but he nodded curtly, “I’ll do my best.” 

Robin huffed, “Good!

Jason ran along his side and Bruce put an arm over his shoulder, giving The Riddler one last long look before walking back out to the batmobile. 

When they got settled in the car,Bruce spoke up. 

“Do you really believe that?” 

“Believe what?” Jason’s voice was softer, and when Bruce looked over he caught him with his knees drawn to his chest, his cape covering the rest of him. 

“What you said about the Riddler.” Bruce kept his voice mellow, calm. The Riddler had been a problem long before Jason came around. Bruce wasn’t certain there was a way for him to come back to society and integrate, at least not the way Jason described. 

He looked back at the road, and waited. After patrols normally Jason would talk his ear off but he was being uncharacteristically quiet, especially so late at night. 

Jason sighed, propping his chin up on his knee,

“Yeah, I believe that if he can get better, mentally..y’know? He could be a good teacher, he’s obviously got a lot of passion, he just needs a good place to plug it in. I know he’s been like a bad guy for years before I got here but everyone deserves a second chance, even him.”

“Hn.” 

“I once read that people can change, it takes work, daily work, and they’ll relapse, and get bad.. But if they want to get better, and truly have a second chance- they’ll do it. They’ll take it by the throat and get better, it just takes time but anyone can do it.” 

 

“How do you know that?” 

He heard Jason move and a sharp punch landed on his shoulder. 

“Because I got a second chance, and I took it by the throat and guess where I am? Sitting here with you, and trying to finish up some homework after a patrol. Do you think I could’ve predicted this?” 

“Jason-” 

“Because I didn’t, but because you gave me a second chance I’m here now. We can’t.. Give up on people, okay?” 

Bruce let himself smile, nodding, “Of course.”  
“...Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> hiya hey hey. if you enjoyed my fic please shoot me a follow on my tumblr @brunchywrites
> 
> this is an ongoing series with no set time line but it's basically a collection of bruce and jason shorts with a theme surrounding jason reading and referencing things in his life.
> 
> that's all!!


End file.
